


Just Another Day

by sjhw_tolerance (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/sjhw_tolerance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack finds out Sam doesn't care much for Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> A Sam & Jack Valentine's Day fic for wlykyoti and anyone else who has ever had a less than memorable Valentine's Day!
> 
> Originally posted February 2008.

Just Another Day

Jonas squinted, the glyphs on the computer screen dancing before his eyes, rearranging themselves randomly in what he was certain was an attempt to mock his so far pitiful attempts at translating them. Seeking a temporary reprieve, he sat back and stretched, letting eyes focus on a distant point, which happened to be a spot through his open doorway and out into the hall. 

“Are you fatigued, Jonas Quinn?” Teal’c’s low voice rumbled from his position on a chair in the corner of the room where he was ‘helping’ with the translation.

“Ah, just resting my eyes for a minute.”

“It is tedious work,” Teal’c murmured, before once more immersing himself in his World Weekly News. 

Jonas let his eyes momentarily un-focus. It was tedious work, but SG-7 had found this particular frieze on a planet that also had indications of Ancient occupation at one point in its history and he hoped it might lead them to more information about the Lost City. He looked back at the computer screen, this time finding the glyphs swaying drunkenly. The last time he’d checked the time it had been 1600; maybe staring at a monitor all afternoon hadn’t been the wisest idea.

“Hey guys.” Sam appeared in the doorway dressed in a sweater and jeans, her coat hanging over her arm. “I was on my way out but thought I’d stop and see how the translation’s going.”

“It isn’t,” Jonas sighed.

Sam’s smile was sympathetic. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Well, I’d rather figure it out sooner than later. I just know we’re getting close to finding the Lost City.”

“We’ll find it. Maybe not today, but we will find it.” She smiled brightly. “Okay guys, well, don’t work too hard. Try and relax a little bit this weekend.”

Jonas shrugged. One day was pretty much like the other down in the bowels of the SGC. But…even he knew this wasn’t just any weekend. “Like you’re one to talk,” he commented dryly. Sam gave him a ‘who me?” look and Jonas grinned in return. But…since she’d brought the weekend up, curiosity got the better of him and he asked casually, “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“No,” Sam replied easily.

“No special date or anything?” Jonas persisted. Teal’c had also finally looked up from the tabloid.

She gave him a puzzled look. “Well, unless you call scrubbing my kitchen floor a special date, then no.”

“But…I thought you and the Colonel….” Jonas let his voice trail off, aware that he was venturing into uncharted—and generally unspoken—territory. While it certainly wasn’t common knowledge on the base, he and Teal’c had known for several months now that Major Carter and Colonel O’Neill were involved in a very discreet relationship.

“What about me and the Colonel?” she asked. And to his relief, she seemed more curious than upset.

“Well…it is Valentine’s Day tomorrow.”

Much to Jonas’ amazement, Sam gave a most unladylike snort. “Valentine’s Day? Sorry, Jonas. That is one holiday I don’t celebrate.” 

“I was not aware you held such disdain for the celebration of love and romance, Major Carter.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Teal’c,” she said. Stepping further into the room, she dropped her jacket down onto the desk and started talking, her hands flying in time with her words. “I’m all in favor of love and romance, I’m just not in favor of the commercialized crap that is Valentine’s Day.” She snorted again. “Valentine’s Day is a holiday created and maintained by the card companies and florists and has nothing even remotely to do with love. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just another day, like any other.”

Jonas looked at the normally calm and collected woman in amazement; he’d never have mentioned Valentine’s Day if he’d known he was going to get this kind of reaction. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Sam so worked up over something that wasn’t a piece of alien technology or a Goa’uld attack. 

“So you do not ascribe to the sentiment of a special day to exchange tokens of your love?”

“Nor hardly, Teal’c,” she retorted.

“I thought every woman liked Valentine’s Day?” Jonas muttered, thinking of the card and the red heart-shaped box of chocolates in his top desk drawer that he had for Lieutenant Bonnie Rush. What if she didn’t like Valentine’s Day?

“Let’s put it this way, Jonas. I used to like Valentine’s Day until the year that David, my so-called boyfriend, broke up with me on Valentine’s Day.” 

“He was not worthy of you, Major Carter.”

“He was an idiot and a jerk,” she huffed.

“Indeed.”

“Yeah,” she added, apparently warming to her subject, “and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was my lab partner in chemistry and I had to spend the rest of the semester working with him!” 

Sam picked up her jacket and shrugged into it, taking several steps towards the door before she stopped and looked back at him. “So, to answer your question, Jonas, this is one woman who doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.” And with that pronouncement, she left.

Jonas looked over at Teal’c who seemed unperturbed by their friend’s anti-Valentine’s Day outburst. If she really felt that strongly about the day…. “Do you think we should tell Colonel O’Neill?”

“That Major Carter is unlikely to respond favorably to his plans for Valentine’s Day?”

Jonas nodded. “She seemed pretty adamant.”

A slight smile tugged at the Jaffa’s usually sober expression. “Has O’Neill not repeatedly requested that we ‘butt out’ of his relationship with Major Carter?”

“Teal’c,” Jonas said slowly, “what are you suggesting?” As prickly as the Colonel was about his privacy, it had been difficult to ignore him when he’d made dinner reservations and ordered flowers for the fourteenth while all three of them had been in Jonas’ lab. 

“That we merely do as O’Neill has requested.” Teal’c picked up his tabloid again, holding it up in front of his face, ending their conversation.

Jonas frowned slightly. He wasn’t convinced by Teal’c’s reasoning, but then the Jaffa did have the advantage of knowing both Sam and the Colonel for a lot longer than he had, so maybe he was right. But then again…. Turning back to his computer screen and the translation, Jonas really hoped the day never arrived when he was on the receiving end of that whole Jaffa revenge thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stood at the entry to her kitchen and surveyed the results. Every surface was spotless, including the stove top and burner pans, the floor sparkled and she’d even polished up the cupboard doors with a special wood polish. Truthfully, it wasn’t that her kitchen had been that dirty, she did have a cleaning service that came in once a month, but there were just some cleaning jobs that were done better when you did them yourself. It had been a full morning’s work and now that everything was all clean, she almost hated to make lunch. Maybe she’d just order take-out, or better yet, call Jack and see if he wanted to go out for lunch.

Heading towards the front of the house and the small area that she used as her office, the doorbell rang just as she reached for the phone. Glancing out the window on her way to the door, all she could see was a white delivery van parked at her curb. Playing it on the safe side she pulled the curtain back and when she took a quick peek through the window, all she could see was what looked suspiciously like green florist paper wrapped in plastic. Frowning then, she opened the door.

“Ms. Samantha Carter?” The large bundle shifted and the earnest face of a college-aged delivery boy smiled hopefully at her.

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly, fighting down the looming sense of dread that filled her.

“These are for you, ma’am.” He shoved the flowers towards her and she automatically reached for them. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” he called, already trotting down her front walk and back to his delivery van.

Juggling the large vase, Sam closed her front door and awkwardly maneuvered her way down the hall to the living room. Once there, she carefully set the florist’s delivery down on the coffee table and stepped back, studying it. It was roses, she could tell that much through the wrapping, and a lot of them. Taking a deep breath, she gingerly started peeling away the plastic outer wrapping and then the inner wrapping, revealing the most beautiful red roses she’d seen in…well, a very long time. Her fingers trailed lightly over the velvety soft petals as she counted them.

Damn him. Twenty-four perfect red roses. 

Nestled near the front of the beautiful crystal vase was the card. Sam plucked it out of the plastic holder and with that sinking feeling of dread increasing exponentially, opened it. The message had obviously been hand-written by someone at the florist’s and was surprisingly succinct: Be ready at seven. It wasn’t signed, but she had no doubt as to who had sent them. 

Sam sighed heavily. They were too beautiful, not to mention too expensive, to throw away, but, she looked around the room where she spent most of her time when she was at home, they couldn’t stay in here. Picking up the heavy vase again, she carried it into the front room, setting it on the table there. She couldn’t resist stroking one of the delicate blossoms again, they were gorgeous and then on an impulse, she stuck her face into the midst of the fragrant blooms, inhaling deeply. Their scent was so heady, she was even more impressed with his choice. But…as beautiful as they were, it would be a cold day in hell before she’d be ready at seven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At precisely seven p.m. Sam heard the faint sound of a key turn in the lock and her front door open. Not that she was listening or anything…. Tugging the afghan a little closer around her and settling deeper into the soft cushions on her sofa, she scooped out another spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream and—ignoring the heavy tread of footsteps down the hallway—watched as Ripley and the crew of the Nostromo looked on in horror as the alien burst through Kane’s chest.

“Sam?”

“In here!” she called, keeping her eyes fixed determinedly on the TV.

Jack suddenly loomed over her, blocking the television, a slight frown on his face and concern in his eyes. “Sam? What’s the matter? Why aren’t you ready?”

Oh god, he looked so handsome that for a moment she forgot why she didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. He was dressed in black slacks and a sweater, with a black leather jacket, his silver hair gleaming in sexy contrast to the unrelieved black of his clothing. He looked so delicious that she wished for a moment that they were going out and that she was wearing something other than an old pair of sweatpants and an equally ancient sweatshirt. 

Pulling herself together, she asked, “For what?”

His frown deepened. “To go out. For dinner. For Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh that.”

He was definitely scowling now. “If that florist screwed up and you didn’t get those roses….”

“No,” she said breezily. “I got the flowers.”

“Then why aren’t you ready?”

“Because I’m not going out.”

“You’re not going out?” 

He barely got the words out through his gritted teeth and she winced. “No,” she said, keeping her tone reasonable while in the background all havoc was let loose on the Nostromo. “If you’d bothered to ask, I would have told you I don’t do Valentine’s Day.”

“What?” he growled, confused and clearly irritated.

She shrugged. “I don’t do Valentine’s Day. No paper hearts, sappy cards, candy or flowers for me. Oh,” she added, “thank you by the way, they’re beautiful.”

He blinked. “But you don’t want them?”

“Well…no, not really.” She could feel herself weakening and quickly added, her voice sincere. “It was sweet though.”

That seemed to deflate his anger a bit and he got that befuddled look that usually only appeared when she got too enthusiastic in her scientific explanations. He sat down on the coffee table in front of her, sending the newspaper and the remote sliding. Keeping a firm grip on her ice cream, she grabbed for the remote and put the movie on pause. In an unconscious effort to stall for time, she took another spoonful of ice cream and ate it, and then handed the container and spoon to him.

“So,” Jack said, licking the spoon before dipping it into the Chunky Monkey, “why don’t you like Valentine’s Day?”

Sam sighed softly, his patience would be her undoing and her reason for disliking Valentine’s Day seemed so high school now when she thought about explaining it to the man she loved. “Oh, the usual I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, the spoonful of ice cream halfway between the container and his mouth.

She shrugged. “Boyfriend dumped me on Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah.” He nodded thoughtfully, sticking the spoon in his mouth, lips closing briefly around it before he pulled it back out, minus the ice cream and leaving a tiny blob on his lower lip that she ached to lick off. But he beat her too it and she moaned inaudibly. It wasn’t fair that he could look so sexy eating ice cream. 

“So, you what?” he asked, gesturing with the spoon. “Spend the evening eating ice cream and watching horror movies?”

When he put it like that, it made her squirm a bit. “Well, more or less.”

“Okay,” he said, sticking the spoon in the pint of Ben & Jerry’s and handing it to her. She quickly grabbed it and watched in bemusement as he stood up, side-stepping around the coffee table. Pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, he pressed several buttons. “Yes, this is Jack O’Neill. Cancel my reservation for 7:30.” He took his jacket off next, tossing it on one of the nearby chairs; he slipped his shoes off then, plopping down on the sofa next to her. The cushions gave and she jostled against him, setting the ice cream down before settling back against his side. He tugged at the afghan and she shifted, sharing it with him.

Reaching past her for the remote, he re-started the movie before slipping his arm around her shoulder. “But I’m telling you right now, we’re going to have to have more than ice cream for dinner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam sighed in quiet contentment several hours later while they watched Ripley tuck Hicks and Newt into the hibernation pods. She loved the movie and it always made her a little sad that Ripley didn’t get a happy ending, well, she supposed the ending of the fourth one was kind of happy. As for her, she was feeling fairly mellow for a Valentine’s Day, snuggled with Jack on the sofa. The coffee table was strewn with the remains of the pizza they’d ordered as well as a bottle of wine they’d shared and what was left of the melted pint of Chunky Monkey. 

The credits started running and Jack sat up, stretching as he reached for the remote.  
Shutting the movie off, he looked at her and she melted a bit at the warm look in his eyes. “So,” he drawled, tossing the remote onto the coffee table, his hand coming to rest warmly on her knee. “Does your boycott of Valentine’s Day include a ‘no sex’ clause?”

“Hmm,” she mused, sitting up a bit straighter and pretending to look thoughtful. “Now that you mention it, I don’t believe it does.”

“Handy that,” he murmured, his hand gliding slowly up her thigh as he leaned closer. “Because I can’t think of a better way to spend Valentine’s night.” 

Sam’s eyes slowly closed and she felt his warm breath on her cheek and then he chuckled, his hand squeezing her knee. “I’ll go move the truck.” 

Her eyes flew open in disappointment when he stood up, grinning cheerfully while he put his shoes back on and grabbed his jacket, before leaving her feeling more than a little frustrated as he went out to move his truck. Sighing, she got up and folded up the afghan before clearing away the debris from their dinner. Sam knew they had to be circumspect, but she couldn’t wait for the day when they could be open about their relationship. 

Shutting off all but the hall light, she headed towards the bedroom, when she decided to make a quick detour and quickly retraced her steps to the front room. She didn’t know if she was being weak when she picked up the vase of roses and took it with her back to the bedroom, maybe it was just because she was in love, she decided pragmatically, setting the gorgeous bouquet in the center of her dresser. 

Stepping back to look at them, she sensed his presence seconds before his arms closed around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “So,” he rumbled in her ear and she could hear the amusement and affection in his voice, “have you changed your mind about Valentine’s Day?”

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, twisting in his embrace until she faced him, looping her arms around his neck. “Flowers are nice…but I think it’s going to take more than roses to change my mind.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, but then his lips curved in that sexy half-smile that she couldn’t resist. The hands at her waist slowly made their way to her butt, pressing her firmly against him. “Is it now?” he murmured, lowering is head and pressing a kiss on the sensitive skin just below her right ear.

“Yes,” she gasped, wriggling against him until his hips were pressed right against her pelvis. He’d shaved before he’d come over, she somehow just managed to notice, his jaw smooth against her skin and she cradled his head with one hand when he started kissing and nibbling a path down her neck. Her nails bit lightly at his nape when he tugged at the neckline of sweatshirt, sucking briefly at her collarbone before nipping gently. The hand on her butt migrated north, finding its way under her sweatshirt, his hand splayed warmly against the small of her back as she waited breathlessly for his reply.

“So,” he said, his husky voice sending a shiver through her, his mouth now working its way back up her throat until his lips just brushed against hers. “Is there anything in particular you have in mind?”

Sam really couldn’t think when his hard body was pressed so tightly against her and his mouth so temptingly close. She could still smell the cold, fresh outdoor air on him, mixed with the faint hint of his aftershave and soap. Her roses smelled fantastic, but they couldn’t hold a candle to how good Jack always smelled to her. His lips still just hovered over hers though and she realized hazily that he was still waiting for her answer, which was surprisingly simple.

“Kiss me!” she demanded, moving her hands to hold his cheeks and mashing her lips against his. She barely registered his low growl before he regained his balance, his mouth moving persuasively against hers and she lost herself in the incredible taste of his kisses. Refusing to give up his kisses, she started to slowly shuffle forward and he moved with her. When he abruptly stopped moving, she dragged her mouth from his, gasping softly.

“No more kisses?” he rasped, breathing just as heavily as she was, his hands flexing restlessly at her waist.

Verifying their location, Sam smiled, placing her hand in the middle of his chest and pushing gently. He grinned, tumbling back onto the bed. She followed him down, kneeling over him and pulling her sweatshirt off, as he scooted towards the middle of the bed. She’d gone braless and his dark eyes flared with appreciation. Her smiled widened and she shimmied out of her sweatpants and panties next, somehow never managing to lose her position over him. 

It was hard to concentrate with Jack’s hands roaming over her body, and with minimal cooperation from him, she managed to get his sweater and his T-shirt off. She started on his belt next, taking in a sharp breath when one of his wandering hands did something wonderfully delicious that sent a delicate shiver straight to her core. “You could help me, you know,” she scolded breathlessly, making quick work of the button and zipper. His slacks joined the pile of clothes on the floor and she finally achieved what had somehow become her primary Valentine’s Day goal—having a naked Jack O’Neill in her bed.

“You seem to be doing okay on your own,” he replied, his lazy smile at odds with the leashed tension she could sense—and see—in his body.

“I do, don’t I?” she murmured, stroking her hands slowly down his chest. She felt the deep breath he took when she reached his abdomen, his firm muscles quivering under her caressing hands. 

“Sam,” he rumbled, reaching for her just as she reached his straining erection. She recognized the plea in his voice and while she was tempted to draw out their lovemaking, she was feeling the burn of desire just as strong. Allowing herself the briefest of caresses, she lightly grazed her nails along the rigid length of his penis. Jack groaned, his hips moving towards her in what she knew was an effort to prolong the sweet contact. 

She didn’t think she could be anymore ready for him; answering the look of fierce need on his face, Sam rose up on her knees and swung a leg over him, lithely straddling his hips. His hands glided up the insides of her thighs and she whimpered softly, faltering only momentarily before she sank down onto him. Oh god…it was so good; his hands pushed gently on her knees and she moaned, taking him deeper. 

Letting him take all her weight, Sam started to slowly rock against him, savoring the feel of him beneath her and inside her. His hands rested lightly on her hips as they moved together, the easy rhythm soon evolving into something more demanding. Jack’s eyes darkened and when she felt his hands tighten on her waist, she knew what was about to happen and acted swiftly, not wanting to give up control. Grabbing his wrists, his eyes flared with momentary surprise and she used the opportunity to force his arms back down on the bed, framing his head. 

Her eyes locked with his; they both knew he was stronger, but he didn’t even hesitate, relaxing beneath her, his eyes gleaming. Sam felt a swift surge of satisfaction, which was quickly consumed by a desire that continued to demand release. Leaning forward, she laced her fingers with his, and once more started moving, the change in position intensifying every sensation that radiated up from where they were joined. Jack seemed to appreciate her efforts too, his hips thrusting in synchrony with hers in a rhythm that had become achingly familiar. 

Sam moved steadily, her breathing becoming increasingly ragged, straining against Jack until finally she shattered, exquisite pleasure cascading endlessly through her. Gasping for breath, she collapsed on Jack’s chest, barely noticing when he freed his hands; she did however notice when his arms closed rightly around her and the low rumble in her ear that was her name. It was the only warning she had, but it was enough.

“Jack,” she gasped softly, rolling with him and rearranging her arms and legs until he was cradled firmly between her thighs. His arms slid under her back, his hands cupping her shoulders and she clung to him, shuddering beneath the impact of his heavy thrusts. Jack’s head dropped to her shoulder, grinding his hips against her and she held him when he thrust deep, his big body trembling against hers while he surrendered to the inevitable.

Stroking her fingers through his hair, Sam savored the lazy tendrils of sensation that spread through her with Jack’s release. It was a powerful feeling when she held him like this, vulnerable and unguarded, in her arms. She treasured these brief moments, the intimacy always more intense in face of the rules and regulations that ran their lives. It was only during these quiet interludes that she was allowed to indulge in the normalcy that other couples took for granted.

Jack shifted against her, but instead of moving off her, he nestled closer. She didn’t protest, running her hands soothingly up and down his back. Over his shoulder she caught sight of the roses on her dresser and smiled. Now that she was with Jack, she might have to rethink her whole ban on Valentine’s Day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, Teal’c,” Jonas said cheerfully, pouring syrup over the huge stack of pancakes on his plate. “Nothing beats pancakes on a Monday morning.” 

“You seem in exceptionally good spirits this morning, Jonas Quinn.” Teal’c looked up from his equally high stack of pancakes, dripping with syrup and butter. “Was your Valentine’s Day encounter with Nurse Rush successful?”

“Very successful,” Jonas replied. “Fortunately, Bonnie doesn’t have the same phobia as Sam. In fact,” Jonas took a bite of his pancakes and continuing to talk, “she was very enthusiastic.”

“I see.”

“Yes,” he nodded, spearing a link sausage on his plate. “She even had a token of affection for me.”

“A token of affection?” O’Neill plopped his tray down on their table. “From whom?”

“Ah….” Jonas stammered, almost choking on the sausage and wondering desperately if he could get away with the Colonel’s usual curt reply whenever he was asked a personal question. But Teal’c beat him to it.

“Nurse Rush,” the Jaffa intoned solemnly. 

“Jonas! You dog!” O’Neill actually looked impressed. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.” Jack sat down and opened the carton of milk on his tray, pouring some onto his oatmeal. “Teal’c? Did you know Jonas has a girlfriend?”

“I was aware, O’Neill.”

“She’s not really my girlfriend,” Jonas replied quickly, starting to feel very confused by older man’s uncharacteristic good mood. “We’ve just gone out a—”

“Jonas,” O’Neill said, waving his spoonful of oatmeal for emphasis. “If you’ve given and received ‘tokens of affection’ on Valentine’s Day then she’s your girlfriend. Trust me on this one.”

Jonas gave Teal’c a pleading look and the Jaffa nodded slightly. “Tell me, O’Neill. Were your tokens of affection well received?”

Much to Jonas’ amazement, the Colonel didn’t seem annoyed by Teal’c’s question, in fact he seemed…pleased, his eyes drifting towards the door of the dining hall. Jonas twisted around and saw Sam standing in the doorway, a smile lighting her face when she saw them. And while Jonas couldn’t be positive, he would swear that her smile was intended solely for the Colonel.

“Oh,” O’Neill said quietly, his eyes fixed on Sam. “I think you could say they were very well received, Teal’c.”

THE END


End file.
